


Cursing is a Kind of Magic

by I_try_to_write



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Air Conditioning, Explecit language, Fluff, M/M, cursing, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4352408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_try_to_write/pseuds/I_try_to_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale feels bad about wanting to say profane things. Crowley  encourages him to let it out. The rating is for the cursing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursing is a Kind of Magic

An angel and a demon had just finished their dinner at the Ritz, and now were headed for the Angel's place to get as drunk as possible. Crowley was driving not particularly terribly, though no one would call it safe. He was in the middle of telling Aziraphale about how he was to blame for the legalization of gay marriage in the U.S.A. when the Bentley decided it didn’t want to be driven on the paved road completely anylonger.

"Oh fuck, sorry angel." He said as he brought the car back onto the road. 

Aziraphale’s face twitched at the demons words. "It's fine dear, just do try and be a bit more careful." 

They continued on their way listening to Khandoshkin's Violin Sonata No 3 in D major, which begun with the snapping of fingers followed by a voice singing "it's a kind of magic". As they passed through a stop light a women on a motorcycle pulled out in front of them. Crowley hit the brakes and ignored the temptation to drive straight over the human, and instead blew the horn longer than necessary, only letting up so he could yell "What the fuck? Bastard," to the woman that could not hear him anyway. 

"Crowley can you _please_. control your cursing a bit more." Aziraphale asked wearily.

The demon frowned and looked to the passenger, puzzled. His angel hadn’t ever expressed his annoyance about his choice of words before. "Sure, Az… I didn't know it bothered you."

"Well it doesn't bother me it's just...” Aziraphale sighed. “Well, recently I've been having trouble stopping myself from saying…" hw began to wring his hands in amxiety. "Such things. It's hardly the kind of vocabulary an angel should have, you know. And I'm certain that my superiors would be unhappy if they heard." He said and looked out the window, paranoid as if his superiors were watching him now.

"Well they can't hear you in here." Crowley said with a shrug. Aziraphale raised his eyebrows at the demon. The driver saw, for he rarely actually looked at the road while he was driving.

"What, you think I wouldn't protect _my_ car? Angels, Metatron, the whole bloody upstairs can't hear anything you say in this car. And unless Freddie Mercury stops singing downstairs won’t be listening either.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment while Crowley drove and the radio played.

 _This flame that burns inside of me. I'm hearing secret harmonies_.

"Go on, get it out of your system." 

"I beg your-"

"If you don't say something profane right now I'm turning this car around... Illegally.. And I’ll hit a dog."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “No, you wouldn’t.”

Crowley hmphed. “No, too innocent. I would definitely hit a human though, how about that one?” He said as he pointed to a man walking along the sidewalk and began to veer towards him.

The angel sighed. “I won’t stop you. That one’s not living a good life anyways.”

Crowley groaned in exasperation. “Come on Aziraphale just say 'fuck'."

"No, I-I don't feel like it right now-"

"Angellllllll… For me?" 

"No," the blond answered tersely.

Crowley made a long irritating noise that was much like a toddler whining, only not as high pitched. “Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

"I said-"

Crowley slammed on the break suddenly. 

"Fuck! Fine, happy now? Drive you bloody car like normal!" The angel yelled as the car screeched and sped back up again.

The demon was smirking. "Does it feel like-?" He said, letting the radio finish his sentence.

 _a kind of magic_.

The angel looked out the window, irritated at Crowley's trick. "No, not really." He said bitterly, but the driver could tell he was lying.

Crowley looked at him over his glasses incredulously until the blond turned back to him and sighed. "Well-yeah, okay... Only a bit." Aziraphale added, more to reassure himself he wasn’t enjoying it too much.

The demon grinned, proud of his work. He wouldn’t call this thwarting, rather enlightening the holy being. They were only words after all.

The Bentley ran off the road again, and Crowley tore his gaze away from the angel to control the car. “Fuck-I mean-shit, err… Ssssorry. Do you still want me to try and curse less?” He asked, genuinely.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Just keep your eyes on the damn road my dear.”


End file.
